The Magic of Fenway Park, Home of the Boston Red Sox

If a baseball park was to be rated on charm alone, Fenway
Park in Boston, Mass., would rank as one of the best baseball stadiums
in Major League Baseball.

Through the years, Boston Red Sox fans have known Fenway Park as an
ancient charmer in a modern, state-of-the-art world. The pastoral,
beautiful symmetry of the game has always looked good at Fenway, and
always will -- enhanced by the charismatic 37-foot high Green Monster
scoreboard, the esteemed Citgo sign behind the stadium, seats
intimately close to the well-manicured field, thick Boston accents,
Fenway Franks, too much beer, and stentorian locals having a complete
knowledge
of who played here (from anomolies like Mike Garmen and Kevin Romano to
fan favorites like Johnny Pesky, Luis Tiant, David Ortiz and Dustin
Pedroia). They know who ruined our "summahs" -- Bucky "Bleeping" Dent
and Bill Buckner (even though it was technically fall), and they know
who the "phonies" were -- we won't name names here. Three recent World
Series rings (2004, 2007 and 2013), however, makes up for a lot of lost
time in the history of the franchise.

Fenway Park has a beloved downside with
cramped, slightly uncomfortable seats (and not enough of them at around
37,000+). The restroom facilities -- albeit slightly improved -- once
prompted me in the early 80s to run across the street in between
innings to the now defunct Aku Aku Chinese restaurant to use spotless
restrooms. The concession stands have also improved but still not in
the comfort food selections hall of fame. The stadium, overall, feels
like a worn out, old comfortable shoe that sometimes looks more
inviting from the comfort of the living room television. We always
return, however, as the living room is built for, as mentioned, comfort
and Fenway Park for discomfort -- the latter of which New Englanders
prefer (along with bad weather, high taxes, astronomical real estate
costs, elevated college tuition, and one-way city streets never quite
getting you to your intended destination). In all fairness, renovations
and expansion have been made in the past few years to make things more
comfortable, but we're still not talking about one of those modern
ballparks with all the bells and whistles -- it is still an old ball
park, but a charming one-of-a-kind one, at that.

No matter who has been in the Boston Red Sox lineup, it has ultimately
been the fans historically serving as the city's baseball catalyst
since 1912. Fenway Park fans have kept the Boston Red Sox in business
by not only paying for their tickets en route to traditionally sold out
games, but by also creating the spirit behind the team that had, until
recently, not won a World Series since 1918. We've heard the fervor of
that fortunate paradigm shift in the stands, in the streets, on the
radio and sometimes from the living room through the open windows and
into the neighborhood.

Fenway Park cannot be measured by modern amenities -- not by a
tape-measured longshot. All is has going for it are the people. The
fans in other cities with modern ballparks just have that, the modern
ballpark -- no soul, no screaming, no yelling, no cheering, no signs of
life. It is like going to a Michael Bolton concert where, as we all
know, there are simply no memories in the making.

Everyone has a memory or two of Fenway Park. To be a kid and watch a
game at Fenway Park was one of the true highlights of my childhood. My
favorite memories include the time Baltimore Oriole first baseman Boog
Powell almost took my life with a foul ball rocket over my
seven-year-old head. Tony Oliva, the Minnsesota Twins star outfielder,
once let go of his bat accidently while swinging and almost had the
same effect on me as Boog Powell. Then there was the time when the
crowd yelled in unison "We want a hit," while my lone, meek little
eight-year-old voice followed with "We want a hot dog." Everyone laughed within earshot.

Then there's the bleachers, which seemed to formerly accommodate
leather-lunged fans with no limits on their unlimited profane
vocabulary -- as well as women in inappropriate clothing who
loved these men. Now, it's a bit more family-friendly with more
civil behavior overall, pink baseball caps, and what seems like one big
happy family singing along with Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" on the
speakers (a newer Fenway Park tradition). It's all part of the fabric
that creates the Fenway Park magic, but in a different way than in the
die-hard Red Sox fan past.

The Fenway Park Tours are great, too! Knowledgable, often humorous
locals take you all over Fenway Park at a fair rate to inform and
entertain on its fascinating history and details on the unique nature
of the park and it recent upgrades. It's really the next best thing to
watching a game and we look forward to going on the tours as a yearly
summer vacation tradition.

We may lose Fenway Park someday to a Camden Yards-type model, possibly
in South Boston. So far, politics has kept that from happening -- this
is one good example of red tape preserving our memories. Many New
Englanders wouldn't mind a new stadium, however. as they are smart
enough to know history begins the day something new happens. For the
rest of us, however, Fenway Park will do just fine. Sometimes feelings
overrule logic, and although a new stadium would be nice, the "Fenway
magic" has a spell on us that won't ever go away. After all, that is
the New England way of thinking.

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